Of Quidditch Pants and Persuasion
by It's Just Not Flowing
Summary: Full title: The One Where The Entire Gryffindor Common Room Lusts After Harry Wearing Quidditch Pants and Hermione is Persuasive. That's rather self-explanatory, I think. Really, it's just best to move on. Equally pointless second chapter now added.
1. Of Quidditch Pants and Persuasions

Disclaimer: Not mine. 'Nough said.

**The One Where The Entire Gryffindor Common Room Lusts After Harry Wearing Quidditch Pants and Hermione is Persuasive**

When Ron walked into the Gryffindor common room, dripping wet and covered in mud, he was a little more than surprised to see several fallen faces, hear quite a few groans and curses, and be met with an overall utter disappointment.

"Oi! I'm not that terrible-looking, am I?"

No one answered; it did little to boost his confidence.

Dejectedly, he walked over to the small, overstuffed couch where he found Hermione, Ginny, Lavender, Parvati, and Padma crammed into a space clearly meant for three.

"You know, there are more places to sit." Ron remarked, suddenly realizing how full the side of the common room closest to the portrait hole was. "Look," he added, pointing to several open chairs on the other side of the room, "there are plenty of seats over there."

Lavender actually rolled her eyes at him. "We can't very well see from over there, now, can we?"

"Huh?" Ron asked, intelligently.

"It's not important Ron." Ginny quickly added. "Do you know where Harry is?"

He was startled to find he now had several pairs of eyes upon him; even Hermione looked up from her book.

"Uh—erm—he stayed behind to work on a few plays. I was knackered, so I left him behind—said he didn't mind. 'Sides," he added with a grin, "I need a shower."

"That's for sure." Ginny mumbled under her breath.

Ron looked at her oddly "Wait—how'd you get back here from practice so fast?" He then did a double take. "And how'd you change so fast? And why?"

"So many questions Ronald." She waved him off. "Do you know if Harry will be back soon?"

"You're the one with the questions! Why the sudden interest in Harry, anyways?"

"It's hardly sudden," quipped Parvati with a grin. The rest of the girls chuckled.

Ron had the distinct impression that he was missing something.

"What's going on?" He demanded. "And why are you here?" He barked at Padma.

"I'm here for the same reason everyone else is." She replied sharply.

""Not _everyone_." Hermione stressed. Ron was surprised to find she was blushing slightly.

Loud shouts of disbelief followed her statement.

"Oh, please, Hermione. Don't even bother." Ginny scoffed.

"Oh, honestly! Fine, fine." Hermione shut her book and threw it on the table in front of her.

Lavender actually let out a cheer. "That's it, girl! Don't be ashamed! Embrace it!"

Ron, ready to tear his hair out in frustration, opened his mouth to ask, yet again, what the girls were going on about, when the portrait door opened.

The entire common room went still, eyes fixed on the door.

Seamus rushed through.

A chorus of groans broke out.

"Sorry! Sorry!" Seamus panted, clearly out of breath, but then grinned widely. "I guess I didn't miss it then."

Parvati shook her head. "No, you lucky bloke you. We've been sitting here for _ages_."

Seamus, still grinning widely, moved to sit on the rug in front of the fireplace next to a younger girl Ron had never seen before. He then noticed she was wearing Hufflepuff robes.

"Alright! Merlin's beard! What the hell is going on?"

"Ron! Could you be any more dense?" Ginny groaned out. "We're waiting for Harry, you pratt!"

"Harry?" Ron replied stupidly. "All of you?" He paused, scrunching up his face. "Is this a surprise party?"

The entire room groaned.

"Never mind, never mind." Ginny sighed.

"While you're here though," Padma abruptly started, "perhaps you could be of some use while we wait. Does Harry really have a Hippogriff tattoo on his chest?"

Ron gaped at them.

"Of course he doesn't." All the eyes in the room swiveled to Hermione who seemed to regret speaking at once.

"And how would you know that, dear Hermione?" Lavender asked with a raised eyebrow.

Hermione huffed. "Oh, honestly! I live in the same house as him most of the summer. I'm sure Ginny and Ron have seen him shirtless loads of times as well."

Ginny sighed wistfully. "If only I could be so lucky. I only saw him once, and fleetingly."

"Does he have a brilliant body?" One girl asked from the crowd.

"Of course he does!" Called Seamus from the floor, "You think Quidditch is easy on the abs?"

A sneaking suspicion of the nature of this seemingly impromptu gathering crept into Ron's mind.

"Hang on—you lot are here just to drool over Harry!"

"Brilliant deduction Holmes." Hermione muttered sarcastically.

Ron looked over at her with wide eyes. "And you—you—he's your best friend! You can't—he's not a piece of meat, Hermione!"

Hermione shrugged, a strange look in her eyes. "That certainly doesn't mean I'm blind."

"You can't blame her, Ron." Piped in Ginny with a faraway look. "It's the Quidditch pants—all self-control goes out the window at the sight of Harry Potter in Quidditch pants."

A collective sigh went up in the room.

"Especially," added Lavender, "Harry Potter in wet Quidditch pants."

Another sigh.

"Can you imagine him in only his Quidditch pants?" Drooled Padma. "Oh, the things I would do—"

This time, the collective sigh was more of a collective moan.

Ron was a tad more than disturbed.

"I think I'd pay 5 galleons just to see him without a shirt, wearing those pants."

"5? I'd pay 10."

"20, definitely."

"I'll get his shirt off if you pay me 20 galleons." Everyone turned to look at Hermione; she shrugged. "What? It wouldn't be hard."

"You get him to take it off, today? Here in the common room?"

"Sure."

Lavender looked at her suspiciously. "I don't believe you."

"Okay then, I guess you all really don't want to see—"

"Wait!" Parvati and Padma interrupted simultaneously.

"We'll pay you, Hermione!"

"After you do it, that is." Padma added.

"Fine." Hermione said with a smirk. "Just you wait."

Ron began to think he was in the middle of a very, very strange dream. Admittedly, he couldn't think why in his dream every girl in Hogwarts, including Hermione (Hermione!), would be lusting after his best mate. Perhaps nightmare was a better term.

They didn't have to wait long, as this time, when the portrait door opened, Harry stepped through.

As much as Ron hated to admit it, now that he was specifically looking for it, he could see why everyone was acting so barmy about Harry in his Quidditch pants. They did fit him rather well—really well, in fact. They stuck to his body in every place possible, showing off his rather impressive backside and large— Ron spun around quickly, grimacing.

Every single person in the room stared in the opposite direction, at Harry. He actually heard Padma let out a small gurgle. Ginny merely sighed, looking completely blissful.

Hermione's reaction disturbed him most of all.

He couldn't recall ever seeing Hermione look at _anyone_ like that before. Her eyes were slightly darkened to a deep chocolate brown and they held a spark of—something—a mixture of unrestrained lust, appreciation, and determination.

Ron rather wished she would look at _him_ like that. Hell, he wished _anyone_ would look at him like that.

Hermione suddenly stood, giving a significant look to the girls beside her, and walked over to Harry, who was obliviously cleaning his boots off with a spell and shaking the water out of his hair.

"Good practice, Harry?"

He grinned; Ron heard the thump of a body hitting the floor coming from behind the couch.

"Not bad, but rather wet."

"Oh, I imagine." Hermione purred.

_Hermione purrs? _

"And dirty too, I take it."

"Yeah." Said Harry with another grin. "Really dirty."

Behind him, Parvati let out a strangled moan.

"You know," Hermione began, sounding far too innocent, "I have a fantastic potion upstairs that could get all those stains out, even the old ones."

"Really? Could I borrow it?"

"Oh, just give me your shirt and I'll do it for you." She stated matter-of-factly, holding out a hand.

Lavender began to pray.

"Erm—" He looked around, finally noticing that everyone in the common room was watching him like a dragon watches her egg. "Now?"

"Sure." Ron wondered how Hermione could sound so nonchalant when just moments before she had been looking at Harry with _that_ look in her eye.

"I dunno—"

"Come on, Harry. I promise I'll work on it really hard for you."

Harry must have caught _something _in the way Hermione was looking at him, for suddenly, he gulped and looked a bit flustered. "Erm—really hard?"

"You know—" She breathed. "On cleaning it."

Harry swallowed heavily. "Oh—well." He gripped the bottom of his shirt.

"YES!" Screamed one of the girls.

Harry stopped, looking at the crowd strangely.

"I—Just won!" The girl called out weakly. "Chess, that is."

Harry's gaze shifted to Hermione, who shrugged with a small smirk on her face. Harry repeated the gesture and whipped his shirt over his head.

"Oh my."

"This is _so_ worth 20 galleons."

A camera flash went off.

Harry didn't appear to notice. He was staring intently at Hermione who was looking up at him with a smile that could only be described as _naughty_.

Ron wondered where this side of Hermione had come from and how he could manage to see more of it.

"Thanks, Harry." She grabbed the shirt that he held limply in his hand and stood on her tiptoes to whisper something into his ear—something that Harry apparently appreciated, for the look in his eyes as he watched her saunter away was positively _feral_.

The entire episode made Ron feel a bit bothered.

Harry, sans shirt, glanced around once more, and then quickly left the room, heading up the stairs to their dorm.

The entire common turned to watch him go.

"Well," started Ginny, after a moment, "Hermione sure can be persuasive when she wants to."

Ron couldn't help but agree.

A/N: Just a silly little thing I wrote when I was in the middle of writing a terribly angsty story. It'd be best to just forget about the whole thing and move on. Cheers!


	2. Of Ponderings and Peculiarities

_A/N: I had a surprising number of people ask for a sequel, and then VenusRising put the idea in my head of Harry retaliating in response to Hermione's naughtiness, so this was born._

_It's just as silly, and ridiculous, and (in my opinion) somewhat forced, but it's what people, asked for, so I decided to go ahead and post it._

_As for the people who told me how similar 'Of Quidditch Pants' was to another fic; I actually had read_ Quidditch Pants and Reports _some time ago, but had forgotten about it. If I get too many more complaints, I'll definitely take it down—I'd hate for it to seem like I copied anyone's work! That wasn't my intention at all._

_Thanks for all the great reviews though—they're the only reason I decided to go ahead and write this. Hope you all enjoy._

_Oh, and as for what Hermione whispered to Harry in the first bit... I'll leave that to your imaginations... _

**The One Where Ron Ponders the Mystery That Is Hermione Granger, and Harry and Hermione Act Peculiar **

_Aka Of Ponderings and Peculiarities_

Ron drummed his fingers on the table loudly, staring across the table at the young woman in front of him. Her eyes remained glued to her book, the heavy tome obstructing his view of her face. He sighed loudly, causing a Ravenclaw at an adjacent table to look up and glare in his direction. Ron ignored him, continuing to stare at Hermione. There was something strange going on with her, and he was determined to find out what it was.

He sighed again, louder this time, and strengthened his tapping.

The Ravenclaw harrumphed and left his table, journeying further back into the library stacks.

Hermione continued to take no notice of Ron.

Ron frowned and grit his teeth.

"Hey, you two!" Harry slid into the seat next to Hermione, a wide grin in place and an odd glint in his eyes.

Hermione immediately placed her book down, a smile lighting up her face as she inspected Harry fondly. "Hey, yourself."

Ron's frown deepened. "Hey," he grumbled.

_No problem, really. I've only been trying to catch Hermione's attention for the past five minutes. _

Harry leaned forward closer to Hermione, "Studying hard?"

"Of course."

Harry shifted in his seat, his hands moving underneath the table.

"Not too hard though?"

"Me? Never." Hermione smirked slightly. "Ron, on the other hand, could use a little—" She stopped abruptly, her face flushing red, and whipped her neck around to look at Harry, her mouth opened in surprise.

He smiled back innocently.

"Merlin's beard, Hermione!" Ron exclaimed. "Can't you just—" he trailed off, observing Hermione closely. "What's the matter with you?"

Hermione's hands were now gripping the table tightly. "I'm—nothing—" She swallowed heavily.

"Yes, Hermione, whatever _is _the matter with you?" The odd glint Ron had seen in Harry's eyes was now intensified, and combined with the full-blown smirk on his face, it made him look rather smug, if not slightly mad.

Hermione bit her lip, attempting to glare at Harry out of the corner of her eye. "N—nothing."

"Are you sure?" Ron asked, looking at her more closely. "You look pretty flushed! You aren't getting sick, are you?"

Harry's smirk grew. "Perhaps we should take you to Madame Pomfrey."

Hermione made an odd noise in the back of her throat.

"You're right, Harry! I've never seen you like this, Hermione! Have you, Harry?"

"Oh, perhaps once or twice," Harry replied, his lip twitching.

Hermione's head fell onto the desk with a thud.

"Should we get a professor?" Ron asked, panicking slightly.

"Maybe you should get Madame Prince," Harry suggested, his eyes twinkling.

Hermione moaned.

Ron scrambled out of his seat.

_She must be in loads of pain! _

"I'll go find her, Hermione! Just hang on!"

He raced through the shelves of books, only slowing when he reached the librarian's desk, breathing heavily. "Madame Prince! You've got to come with me! There's something wrong with Hermione!"

Alarmed, she followed him back to the table, but when he arrived, Hermione was once again sitting up, looking distinctly ruffled, but otherwise relatively normal.

"I'm fine," she insisted, her arms folded. "Just a bit of a…fainting spell, I think."

Madame Prince, after Hermione's continued assertion of her well-being, left the trio.

"Are you sure you're okay, Hermione?"

"Fine, Ron." She picked up her bag off the floor. "I think I _will_ go back to the common room, though."

"Need any help?" Asked Harry, leaning back in his chair, looking rather pleased.

Ron supposed he was happy that Hermione was feeling better.

"No," Hermione hissed, turning to glare at Harry. "And don't think you're getting away with this, Harry James."

With that, she left the library hurriedly.

Ron looked at Harry quizzically. "What was that all about?"

Harry shrugged, the peculiar smirk back in place. "Oh, nothing. She just thinks my cologne caused her fainting spell."

Ron shook his head. "Mental, that one."

Harry only grinned in response.

* * *

--

"Ginny… have you noticed anything… _odd_ going on with Hermione lately?"

Ginny looked up from her breakfast and stared at Ron, a light frown on her face.

"Odd?"

Ron shoved a croissant in his mouth. "Yeah, like weird."

"I know what 'odd' means, Ronald!"

"Sure, sure. Anyways," he continued, swallowing his food, "Have you?"

Ginny shrugged. "Not really; aside from how she's normally odd—spending all that time in the library and such."

"Yeah, but yesterday, she came down with this really weird sickness, but then she was fine after a little bit."

Harry slid into the seat next to him. "Are you still going on about that, mate? Hermione's fine… better than fine, I think." He grinned.

To Ron's disgust, Ginny swooned.

"I'm just saying, Harry… There could be something seriously wrong with her!"

"Well, what did she act like?" Ginny asked, managing to tear her attention away from Harry. "I _am _planning on becoming a Healer."

Harry choked on the juice he was drinking. "Really, Ron, Hermione's…"

"Well, first she got sort of red—looked kinda shocked. Then she started gripping the table and squirming, and moaning a bit. Then I left, but I came back she looked a little flustered, but otherwise fine."

Ginny stared at Ron for a full minute, a blank look on her face.

"What? Is it bad? Do you know what it is?"

"You're serious?"

"Of course I'm serious!"

Ginny glanced over at Harry who busied himself with a bowl of cereal.

"And I suppose Harry was with you, close to Hermione."

"Yeah, but what does that have to do with anything?"

Ginny only stared. "Ron, you are the most…" She trailed off, her mouth open, staring over his shoulder.

"What now?"

"Morning, boys."

It was Hermione, but there was something… different about her. She wasn't wearing her robes, for one. For another, her uniform looked smaller, the top few buttons wouldn't close and her skirt came up higher than Ron remembered. Her hair was up in a bun, which was not terribly unusual, but she was also wearing dark-framed glasses on the edge of her nose.

"Hermione," Ron began, "What happened to your clothes? And why are you wearing glasses?"

She waved him off. "I accidentally shrunk them with a drying charm, and my vision _has_ been getting worse." Oddly enough, during the time she was speaking, she paid Ron no heed, only stared at Harry, an odd curve to her lips.

Ron frowned.

"Hello, Harry." Her voice sounded husky.

Ron's frown deepened.

"H—hey, Her—Mione."

She walked around to the other side of the table; a crease appeared in Ron's brow as he noticed she was wearing high heels. She sat down across from Harry and crossed her legs, then reached down in her bag to take out a quill and some class notes.

Ron relaxed slightly; if Hermione was well enough to study, then surely not all hope was lost.

But then she began to suck on her quill—intently moving it in and out of her mouth.

"Hermione! What are you doing?"

She looked up from her notes. "Hmm?"

"You always said it was bad for your teeth to suck on quills!"

Her lips curled and her eyes lifted upward, again not meeting his eyes, but Harry's instead. "Well, yes, but it's such a hard habit to break. Honestly, sometimes, I just get these intense urges to suck on one!"

Harry began to cough loudly; Ron pounded him on the back absentmindedly.

"But, Hermione, you always get on me about it!"

"I know. I think I just have to be really firm with myself, wrap my hands around the issue, and stick to my resolve, hard and fast."

"Yeah, Hermione. You've never been one to fall back into bad habits."

"You're right Ron, I'm normally so good about it… I'm just feeling absolutely _naughty_."

"That's for sure," Ginny mumbled.

Hermione threw her notes and quill back into her bag. "Actually, I better get going. I have a few things I have to brush up on before class." She stood, but before she left she walked over to Harry, who gulped audibly.

"Oh, Harry," she cooed, "You've gotten crumbs all over yourself."

Her hands rubbed down his face, then over his lips, shoulders, and chest. "There," she said, looking him up and down, "That's better." She moved to go, but then turned back around quickly. "Oh, looks like I missed a few."

She brushed her hand slowly over his lap.

Harry squeaked.

"There you are." Her eyes sparkled. "I'll see you in class!"

As soon as she left, Ron spun around to face Ginny, "You see! She's acting downright strange!"

"I'm not sure if that's the word I would use…" Ginny replied, her eyes wide.

"Harry—back me up here."

"Um—" Harry's voice sounded abnormally high-pitched; clearly he was nervous about Hermione's behavior as well.

Ron huffed. "Let's just look at the facts. Number one; Hermione shrunk her clothes with a drying charm that she normally performs perfectly, nearly every day. Two, she's wearing glasses. Three, her voice was hoarse and scratchy. Four, she's sucking on quills. And five, she has to actually _finish up _her work right before class starts. So, _what_ does that all mean?"

"Enlighten us, Ronald."

The revelation hit Ron suddenly; his mouth opened and his eyes went wide.

"Hermione's _dying_!"

The entire table went silent.

And then burst out laughing.

Ron was aghast; Harry left the table stiffly without another word.

"This is not a laughing matter!" Ron hissed. "What's the matter with you people? Look—you've made Harry upset! He probably didn't realize what was going on with Hermione…"

The table's occupants laughed harder. Dean actually fell off the bench he was sitting on.

Ginny was the first to recover, wiping tears out of her eyes. "And how did you come to that conclusion, Ron?" She asked, fighting back a grin.

"It's obvious, Ginny!" He yelled. "Her magic is weakening—she can't even do even a simple dying spell; her eyesight is failing—she needs glasses; her throat is shriveling up—her voice is all hoarse; she's loosing her self-control—her bad habits are surfacing, and worst of all, she's falling behind in school, which is why she need to do things before class today! And don't get me started on her fainting spell yesterday!"

"Ron…"

"No! Look at you all—laughing about Hermione dying! You're supposed to be her _friends_!"

Ginny lost her control and burst out laughing once again.

"You're _terrible_!"

Ron stormed out of the Great Hall, his ears bright red.

From that day onward, Ron began to keep a journal, detailing Hermione's actions in hopes to find the true nature of her illness. Clearly, she was too proud to come to him for help, so it became his mission to gather more information, incognito.

_**Day One**_

_Tried to talk to Hermione today. She brushed me off and continued writing out some list. Only caught a glimpse of the piece of parchment before she pulled it away, but am curious what 'URST' means and what it has to do with Harry going mad. Perhaps it's an abbreviation of her disease. Looked through the library, but couldn't find anything. Will talk to Harry about it tomorrow. _

_**Day Two **_

_Have become worried about Harry as well. Think he is taking the news about Hermione's state of health very badly. He can't seem to speak to her without becoming nervous and sweaty; he's not even able to string two full words together. Am now afraid to talk to him because it may make him more upset. _

_Worse, Hermione's clothes seem to be getting smaller. Tried to gently offer to help her with her dying charms, but she brushed me off with a strange smile. Am concerned; expected her to yell at me, but she seemed to be preoccupied with something else, probably her illness. _

_**Day Three**_

_Hermione has developed a weird fixation with bananas and éclairs. She eats them at almost every meal. Harry has noticed this as well; saw him staring at her with his mouth open as she ate, looking really bothered._

_Not sure what to make of this development. _

_**Day Four**_

_Think Harry may be trying to drown himself; he has been taking an alarming number of showers—very long showers. _

_Caught Lavender and Parvati calling Hermione a cheeky minx. Yelled at them for being so inconsiderate of a dying woman, but then remembered the look she gave Harry in the common room that one day and her strange actions following it. Think it may be part of her rebellion against dying—rebellion against the 'old Hermione'. Will offer to help with this part of her last wishes, since Harry is obviously too upset to do so. _

_**Day Five**_

_Am now in the hospital wing. _

_Asked Hermione what she wanted to do before she died, in a very casual way. She looked at me strangely, but rattled off a list of ways she wanted to change the world. She also said she wanted to have children; offered my assistance in this area, but got no response (aside from a few nasty spells--hence my current location). Am concerned she is in denial over dying and expressing it in violent ways. _

_Am curious how Hermione has the power to do the spells that put me here, but not enough to do proper drying charm. _

_**Day Six**_

_Still in the hospital wing. _

_Have had no visitors aside from Luna Lovegood, who told me Harry and Hermione were too busy battling _Long-Toothed Intenuats, _or something equally strange, to come visit. Was desperate for information, so asked if they were dangerous, aka, could cause death. Luna laughed and told me I was silly. _

_Was unsettling to be called silly by a girl with the nickname Looney Lovegood. _

_Ignored the comment though, because she brought me chocolate frogs._

**Day Seven**

_Finally out of the hospital wing._

_Hermione's condition seems to have worsened during my absence; she kept falling over all day long. By a strange coincidence, she only fell into Harry, and steadied herself on the strangest parts of Harry, usually in the lower regions. _

_Offered to take her to the hospital wing, but she ignored me, as usual. _

_After dinner, Harry took his longest shower yet. Had to bang on the door constantly to make sure he was still alive. He came out eventually, muttering under his breath about Hermione and her killing him. Concern now at an all-time high for both his and Hermione's health. Resolve to talk to both of them tomorrow. _

* * *

Ron walked into the common room, immediately scanning the area for either of his two best friends, but was disappointed to only find a few people scattered about the room, including Lavender Brown, scribbling furiously on a piece of parchment. Having nothing else to do while he waited for his friends, he walked over to her, hoping he would not regret his decision.

"Hey Lavender, what're you doing?"

She continued to write on the parchment without looking up. "Oh, nothing, just sorting out which god works best for me."

Ron gapped at her. "What?"

"Oh, you know, like, every day of the week, I pray to a different God. Monday is Buddha, Tuesday is Zeus, Wednesday is Jesus, Thursday is Allah, Friday is just plain 'ol God from the Bible and stuff, and weekends are neutral. I've been tracking the qualities of my days for a few weeks now, and each day, I record my results. For example, today, Michael winked at me, so that's a plus for Buddha, but I also got a 'P' on my Charms paper, so that's a major minus." She showed him the rather detailed chart. "It's a very serious matter."

Ron rolled his eyes and searched the Common Room again; to his surprise, he now saw Hermione sitting in the corner of the room reading a large book. He was just about to excuse himself from Lavender (who was still chattering about her 'ingenious' concept), but then the portrait door suddenly swung open.

Ron was overcome by the unsettling feeling of déjà vu.

Harry stepped through the portrait hole, again wearing his Quidditch pants, but now, his shirt was already off, thrown casually over his shoulder, and there was a definite swagger to his steps, a self-confident smile in place.

Beside him, Lavender crumpled up her chart and tossed it to the floor. "Call me Buddhist," she muttered, watching Harry as he walked across the room.

Harry wasted little time in walking straight up to Hermione and taking the book directly out of her hands. He then placed his hands on the arms of the chair on either side of her, leaning forward until his face was only a few centimeters away from her own.

Hermione's jaw dropped.

"Hello, Hermione," Harry murmured, quietly, but loud enough to hear throughout the silent common room.

Hermione's mouth moved, but no sound escaped.

"You know very well you've been driving me mad this past week."

"You started it," Hermione managed to force out, her hands clenched at her side. "In the library."

Harry smirked. "On the contrary, you started it, right in this very common room."

She licked her lips. "Fine. What of it?"

He leaned impossibly closer. "It's my turn again, love."

And then he began to whisper in her ear.

At first, Ron thought he couldn't understand Harry's words because of his soft and husky tone, but then he realized Harry was, in fact, speaking in Parseltongue.

Lavender was the first among the group, watching Harry and Hermione with rapt interest, to speak "Oh, Merlin. That's the hottest thing I've ever seen." She paused, her eyes looking upward. "Buddha, how could I have ever doubted you?"

Hermione clearly agreed with Lavender's first statement, because her eyes were now half-closed, her hands gripping Harry's shoulders tightly.

Ron began to suspect he had been very far off the mark about the nature of Hermione's strange behavior.

His suspicions were proven valid when Hermione, clearly finished with Harry's teasing, pulled his head towards hers, rather roughly, and crushed his lips into hers.

"Well, Ron," begins Lavender, her eyes glued on the couple, "looks like you don't have to worry about Hermione dying anymore… unless they forget to come up for air."

Ron couldn't help but agree.

_A/N: So there you have it. It's unbeta'd, but hopefully I didn't make too many glaring errors. _

_Thanks again for all the wonderful comments on the first part of this story. You guys make me smile. _


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